Alignment Shift
by cigarettes and alcohol
Summary: NWN2, post MOTB, cannon-esque story of Bishop when he is granted a second chance at life. Chapter 3 is ready for R&R's.
1. Chapter 1

"…Or perhaps for those who can think for themselves and recognise the true enemy here" Garius said finishing his speech.

"Bishop" Casavir growled, standing next to the Knight-Captain, sword in hand.

Bishop stepped forward out of the shadows and looked from Linn to Casavir, then back.

"My debt to you is over 'Knight-Captain'… And the strange thing is I'm a little sorry about it. For what its worth I almost kept going for you, right there until the end, but your uncle, its hard to get past that part of it, even…" he took a deep breath "even

after everything else"

'_Don't think I didn't see you and the Paladin here right before the siege… and to think before that I was willing to fight for you… I would have died for you!_' is what he wanted to say, but he couldn't.

"Don't do this Bishop" she pleaded, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I can't help it" he admitted "Getting tied down, even to a feeling for someone, just isn't my style"

Linn continued to shake her head. She had forgotten she was moments away from a battle that would shape the Sword Coast for years to come. She needed to hear what he had to say, and he could see it in her eyes.

"The most frustrating thing about it is I was thinking it would be as easy to hate you as I did Duncan. But I don't… at all"

'_I love you_' he couldn't even say that, not in front of the Paladin.

"But see, that's the reason it's going to end like this. I'm not going to be tied to anyone or anything again..."

"Can you at least tell me why?" she asked, the pain of seeing Bishop again plain to see in her eyes.

"Oh go on Bishop, we have time. Our lord will be here soon, and then none of this matters" Garius said, apparently enjoying the emotional torment Bishop was putting her through.

Bishop took a breath and began to speak; he told her what he had wanted to tell her for so long.

"You see, Duncan saved my life once. Found me outside Red Fallow's Watch, the still smouldering ruins of my home village, barely alive"

"Why would you blame Duncan for that?" she asked, confusion written on her face. She had taken a step towards Bishop, away from Casavir and the Silver Sword had fallen to her side.

"Thing is, _I_ was the one who burned that place to the ground and I didn't want any witnesses" Bishop continued, ignoring her question. He wanted to say his piece. "That's it really, nothing complicated, just settling debts that never should have been made"

It felt good to tell her, to make her see that it was all Duncan's fault he had betrayed her and their companions at the keep.

"But why did you burn your village down?" Linn asked, the sadness in her eyes turning to fear and revulsion.

"It was part of an initiation ceremony into a Luskan assassination squad, like ol' Lorne once was in. It's something they order all new recruits to do, whether they want to or not. And I don't care for that too much" he said matter-of-factly.

"You see, they order you to slaughter a Neverwinter village as part of the initiation ceremony. I decided to take care of two problems at once – and I chose my own"

"That makes no sense…" Linn mumbled, shaking her head in denial. But Bishop wasn't about to stop there.

"You see, for every West Harbour that gives rise to someone like you… someone great…there's a hundred of me that end up going down the other path. And my village…not even worth talking about, it didn't even deserve to survive"

That one cut her deep; he could see it in her eyes. She had truly believed she could change him, she had believed he was a good man deep down.

"So when they ordered me to destroy a village of my choosing I saw a chance to kill the Luskans and kill the place that helped make me the fine, upstanding man you see before you… all as a fortunate accident"

Linn swallowed hard and slowed her breathing, calming herself.

"So what happened?" she asked.

"I was going to burn the village to try and kill the Luskans who were watching over me, it was a trap… but those villagers, those fools, they wouldn't leave when I told them. So they died too. I set a bunch of fires around the perimeter, let it all come circling in and they all burned like sheep trapped in a corral. I told them to leave, to run, but they wouldn't leave their houses especially when _I_ told them… the fools"

It was hard for him to say the words, to bring back the memories and to expose his darkest secret in front of all his former companions. Especially after Shandra's farm and Ember.

"Then Duncan showed up?" Linn prompted, obviously desperate to know the full story, to rationalise everything in her head. Bishop took a breath and continued.

"I took a few arrows, had some wounds… and to be honest I wasn't sure I was going to get out of there at all. I was too weak to fight back, but it didn't matter because for the first time I felt all these chains come off me. I felt free at last… but then Duncan came along, right at the end, tying me to that place, tying me to Luskan… tying me to my past. He saved my life, then he said I _owed_ him – in that stupid joking voice of his, but I knew what he meant; he was blackmailing me with what he knew. Then he called his debt due and that debt was to help you… And I had to do it, else he would have told everyone that I was at that village and then the Luskans would have come looking for me"

"So...because Duncan saved your life, you're going to take mine?" she asked, tears welling up in her grey eyes.

"No telling what Duncan had told you, so yeah, that was the plan. But things got… complicated along the way, and now here we are"

"I…I understand, Bishop. And for what it's worth, I forgive you." she said, but she didn't understand. She said it because it was the right thing to say.  
"Yeah, somehow I knew you'd say that. But it wasn't just about you; you just ended up being the most important part about it." He needed her to know it wasn't her fault, that it was Duncan's.

Garius, sensing Linn's motives cut in.

"Come now Bishop, let's be done with the sentimentalities"

There was a moment of silence as the echo of Garius' patronising words faded in the large chamber.

"Was that an order I heard, Bishop?" Linn asked, a grin emerging on her face. Bishop gritted his teeth and the muscles in his jaw tensed.

"You watch it! I'm not anyone's lackey, not anymo-"

"I think we've heard enough from this Knight of Neverwinter… and from you…ranger. Now be silent" Garius cut him off before he could finish his retort.

Bishop turned away from Linn and looked up at Garius, eyebrows raised.

"Is that so? Well in that case you can handle the Shard Bearer on your own. After all, you really don't need me, do you? I think it might be best if you stopped having people stand between you and the Knight-Captain here – Torio, Lorne, your Reaver friends… I'm not going to fight your battles"

Garius could barely contain his fury.

"You will die if you leave Bishop. I will come for you when I am done here"

"Garius, _you're_ going to die if you stay" he said with a chuckle. Bishop could almost see the disbelief on the emotionless Reaver's face as he turned on his heels and walked to the chamber door. He could feel the eyes of the Knight-Captain and her companions as he walked past them, but he did not look up. He was done with them, done with shards and shadows alike. No matter how many of his heartstrings she had plucked with her big eyes and cascading blonde hair, he was out.

As he rounded the doors he began to run, he didn't want to be anywhere near the ruins when the King of Shadows arrived and the final battle that Linn Farlong had been heading towards began. Bishop even allowed himself a small smile at how he had gambled with death and walked away even. Linn would win, he had little doubt, but Bishop was certain that Garius and the King of Shadows would not go down without a fight.

The only trouble was finding his way out. The ruins were dark and mazelike and it didn't take long before the walls began to shake, dust falling from the ceiling.

"Great…" Bishop muttered, panic building in his stomach.

His heart beating in his ears, Bishop began to run faster, skidding around corners as explosions were heard in the tunnels behind him and larger pebbles fell from the roof. But Bishop could smell the air getting fresher as he ran, could feel the gloom lessening as he ran up a flight of ancient stairs. By the time he reached the top the walls were shaking with unearthly vigour, but he could see natural light at the end of the hall he was in. Gathering all the strength that was left in him he pelted along the hall, watching stones falling all around him. The door got closer and closer and Bishop could taste his freedom. He had done it, come the hells or high water Bishop would always live to fight another day.

And then confusion fogged his mind. Only a second before he had been running but he could no longer feel his legs, or his arms for that matter. In the dim light of entrance all Bishop could make out were chunks of what looked like bone scattered across the floor…


	2. Chapter 2

Bishop stared at The Wall in the silence of the City of Judgement. He had awoken dazed and confused, like all the others but in time the truth had dawned on him: he was dead. His suspicions of his demise were confirmed by an Erinyes who had been sent by her master to recruit Faithless souls for a baatezu army to fight the unending war against the tanar'ri. She stood beside him, smiling to herself as Bishop gazed as the quivering green mass that was The Wall. Limbs would rise and fall from the surface, occasionally a face would push it's way out, the mouth locked in an unheard scream of terror.

"That is what awaits you Bishop," she said, pointing.

Bishop frowned, his hands shaking ever so slightly. The prospect of an eternity in The Wall terrified him more than he could express.

"Unless you accept my master's offer that is…" she continued "He is very kind to those who serve him, and one with your abilities would rise quickly through the ranks"

Bishop nodded. She was right, he was good. But even in death Bishop was still stubborn, and faced with the choice of spending eternity in The Wall or becoming a devil and serving yet another master his principles held fast.

"Lucky I look good in green" he said with a grin.

"So be it" the erinyes said and without a word she spun and walked off, tail wagging behind her.

Bishop stepped closer to The Wall, his keen eyes scanning it for signs of fracture, for the possibility of escape. There were none. The mossy surface of The Wall shifted as he approached, as though it could feel his faithless soul and as he stepped closer he thought he could hear whispers. Whispers of agony, of misery, of regret. He could hear the muted screams of his fellow faithless.

The Crystal Spire jutted high into the grey sky, the topaz structure the only relief from the impending grey of the Fugue Plane. Souls wandered to and fro waiting for their deity to send someone for them, to take them away from the City of Judgement to another Astral Plane where they would be safe and protected by their god. Bishop scowled at them as they passed, mostly at the chains they had worn their whole lives dedicating themselves to a god, but partly because he envied them. They would not suffer as he was about to.

"Bishop?"

At the sound of his name he spun and saw a man in ornate grey robes standing before him, a bastard sword slung around his waist. He was a plain looking man, with the kind of face you would forget moments after seeing it save for his black, sombre eyes.

"What?" Bishop asked, frustrated at his predicament, still fuming at how close he had been to escaping the ruins.

"Follow me please" the robed man replied with a calm voice, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

They walked in silence through the bland streets of the city, the Crystal Spire looming in the distance.

"Where are we going?" Bishop asked.

"To see _him_" the man replied without turning. Bishop did not have to ask who _he_ was.

"Consider it an honour," his guide continued "Very few are judged by the Lord of the Dead in person"

"Is that meant to make me feel better?" Bishop asked incredulously.

"It is an honour and a privilege to be in the presence of Kelemvor" the guide replied sharply.

"Spoken like a true lackey" Bishop retorted. The guide made no attempt to argue with Bishop, though his knuckles were white on the hilt of his sword. Bishop grinned smugly as he was led into the shadow of the Crystal Spire and up to the entry,

passing under the archway into a long hall devoid of decorations. He could hear the echoes of hushed whispers coming from a mass of robed figures at the other end of the hall. The figures were gathered around a high throne and as Bishop approached he saw them preparing a ritual. Incense was lit, charms were scattered and prayers were being uttered.

"Kneel" commanded Bishop's guide a few feet away from the throne.

Bishop let out an exasperated sigh and dropped to his knees, his eyes on the decorated sword his guide was holding on to so tightly. Even in death Bishop could still inspire fear. That made him smile.

The group of robed figures, having finished their ritual, retreated and stood behind Bishop, staring expectantly at the throne they had just been blessing. Bishop turned to watch them stare for a moment, before looking back at the empty throne.

But the throne was not empty.

Sitting before Bishop was a figure in hooded grey robes, the face covered by an ornate silver mask. Being in the presence of a god sent a tingle down Bishop's spine and he longed to have Linn beside him. But she was far, far away.

"Bishop" said Kelemvor in his even toned voice. Bishop had no reply, his mouth was dry and he could taste bile.

"You have been found to be Faithless, do you deny this judgement?" Kelemvor asked. He seemed to be in a hurry, as though Bishop's sentencing was interfering with his busy schedule.

"I do not" Bishop replied, the reality of the situation finally setting in.

"Have you anything to say before your sentence is carried out?"

The question had more meaning than any he had ever been asked. After everything he had been through: his brutal childhood, his time as a Luskan assassin, Red Fallow's Watch and questing with Linn… what were his last words to be?

"I'm sorry"

There was silence in the Hall of Judgement. Kelemvor leaned forward, his robes rustling in the silence.

"I'm sorry I betrayed her"

Kelemvor nodded and sighed.

"Your remorse is noted, Bishop of Red Fallow's Watch. Though I fear it is too little too late. Your life has been one of pain and strife but your actions and unwillingness to worship have led you to this moment. I sentence you to The Wall of the Faithless"

Bishop nodded and hung his head in remorse. His heart was heavy and his throat was hurting from holding back tears. He would have given anything just to see Linn once more.

A hand appeared on each of his shoulders and he was dragged to his feet and away from the now empty throne.

"I can walk on my own" he growled, shaking off the hands of the robed servants of Kelemvor. They guided him out of the Crystal Spire and along the streets where the souls of the other dead watched the condemned soul walking its last march.

The procession stopped where Bishop had stood with the erinyes and his guides stepped back, their hands on the hilts of their swords. A crowd of souls had gathered to watch, dozens of pale faces watched as Bishop stared.

"Don't have anything with a view?" he asked his guides. They didn't dignify his sarcasm with an answer.

"Didn't think so" he said stepping forward and taking one last breath. The whispers he had heard before grew louder as he approached and stretched out a shaking hand to the mossy surface of The Wall. He let out the breath he had been holding, closed his eyes and stepped forward.

…

Bishop didn't know how the others found the strength to scream. But there was always someone letting out a cry that would make a mortal's blood curdle. All Bishop had to keep him company as The Wall contorted his limbs, twisting him in unnatural ways, were his memories.

**-**

"**Look, war is about to hit this place hard and you aren't going to win… I say we head out now and let Neverwinter fall" he had said to her, looking her in the eyes. It was some time before she replied.**

"**What are you saying?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer.**

"**Just you and me, that's what I'm saying. I can guide the two of us out of here, nobody has to know…"**

'_**Run away with me'**_

**She looked up at him from her sitting position on her bed, wrapped in a wool shawl, her blonde hair tied up in a ponytail.**

"**You know I can't" she replied "I swore an oath to protect that city, as sorry as it is sometimes, and we both know I'm not going to break it"**

**Bishop frowned and nodded glumly.**

'**So be it…"**

**-**

"**I am here with you, there is little that could touch me in your presence" Casavir had said looking down into her eyes on the moonlit battlements. From the shadows Bishop could hear every word he said.**

"**There is something I must tell you before this battle is joined, I wish to thank you… for all that you have done for me. You have made me stronger, restored my faith by making me see the good in feeling something for another"**

**Bishop stayed motionless, knowing how mad the Paladin would be if he ever found out Bishop could hear him baring his soul to Linn.**

"**I do not want to repeat the mistakes of the past, and those feelings for Ophala, for blind obedience to Neverwinter and not it's people, those are in the past. And although it is dark you shine brightly to me. There is nothing that can stand against us, in this life or the next"**

**Bishop felt ill, he couldn't see Linn's face but he could imagine the moon reflected in her big, pretty eyes as she looked up at him.**

"**I shall follow you. My sword, and my heart, are yours"**

**Bishop could take no more; he swept silently away into the guardhouse, took the stairs two at a time and leant his head against the wall in the shadows of the entry to the keep, resting his trembling hands on the gate mechanism as he steadied his breathing…**

-

After some time it dawned on Bishop that the Paladin had not stolen Linn from him, he had given her to away. He had never said what he really meant, he never told her how he felt, even as they faced off in his final hours. And Casavir had not been so ambiguous, he had stood there on the wall of the keep and showed his soul to her.

So Bishop screamed, like all the others, as The Wall slowly but surely devoured his soul.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for all the positive feedback and sorry this chapter took so long to get done, Uni work has kept me from my writing. Hope you all enjoy this chapter while I figure out where to take the story next._

Bishop could feel the Wall getting under his skin, up through his fingernails. He had stopped screaming after what felt like an eternity when his cries had gone unanswered. He had called out to anyone to help him, even Casavir, but no help had come. The only thing that kept him from losing all grip on his sanity in his contorting prison was the memory of Linn's face.

So he existed, listening to the moans and screams of the Wall's other occupants in perpetual torment, his soul slowly being eroded, his spirit giving way to surrender and eventual dissolution. Time had no meaning in the Wall and Bishop had no conception of how long he had been there, or just how long an eternity of torment can be.

There were moments when he was manoeuvred close to the surface of the wall when he thought he could see the City of Judgement through the moss, and these were the highlights of his imprisonment. Just knowing that the outside world still existed helped.

Then suddenly, all of it stopped. He felt the Wall around him contorting savagely, the other occupants screaming louder, not knowing what was going on. Bishop could feel the Wall retreating from his person, felt his body returning to its natural form from the contorted shape the Wall had made it. Then in one motion he was expelled from the Wall.

He covered his head with his arms and curled up in a ball on the floor, terrified to look. He thought this was the end, his soul had been finally claimed by the Wall and it was all over.

He was wrong.

"Help him up" said a voice not far away and Bishop heard footsteps coming closer. Shaking with fear, he struggled against the hands that tried to move him from his foetal position. With unnatural strength however, the hands were able to force him to his knees.

Breathing sharply, Bishop felt very vulnerable, but refused to open his eyes. He could tell he was kneeling on concrete and that several figures were surrounding him on all sides.

"Open your eyes, Bishop" he heard the voice again. It was a voice that had haunted him.

Slowing his breathing, Bishop opened his eyes and took in the scene in front of him. He was surrounded by robed figures, some with swords drawn, some with ritual accessories: bowls of herbs, crystals and smoking incense sticks.

And in front of him was the robed and masked figure of Kelemvor, the Lord of the Dead.

Unable to find his voice, Bishop just took in the scene. The city looked a mess, corpses were strewn about the streets and smoke was billowing from a fire in the distance.

"A deal has been made for your soul, Bishop"

It took a moment for those words to sink in. Bishop slowly turned his head to look at the Wall behind him, unable to believe what was happening.

"You are to be sent back to the Prime Material Plane, your life restored to you. I only recommend that you do not forget your time in the Wall, Bishop, because one day you will return to my city… everyone does in the end"

Kelemvor signalled to his acolytes and they began a ritual, drawing a circle of chalk around Bishop, spreading herbs and chanting.

"You are _her_ responsibility now" was the last thing Bishop heard as light engulfed the circle he was in.

"Who…?" he croaked in response, but it was too late. Kelemvor and the City of Judgement disappeared in a flash of brilliant, white light.

…

Bishop gasped for air, coughing and spluttering as his body shook back to life. Taking deep breaths of damp air he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. It took a moment for his senses to recalibrate, his body not used to having a functioning brain in it.

After a minute or so Bishop slowed his breathing to a normal rate and found himself to be lying in a puddle in the doorway of the ruins. The passage he had been running down had collapsed but the doorway was still standing. He could hear rain falling outside and he mustered his strength to crawl up the three steps to the doorway.

Outside in the Mere, Bishop pushed himself to his knees and sat, feeling the rain on his face, breathing in the fresh air deeply. He was alive, and free of the Wall.

It only took a few minutes for his mental alacrity to return and he made his way back into the passage to see what he could salvage.

His bow was not to be found, lost in the rubble and the few arrows he had had with him were scattered across the floor. His cloak and armour had been damaged by exposure to the water and they carried an unpleasant odour that reminded Bishop of the Wall. All he was able to salvage was his skinning knife, enchanted by the waters of the well at Ember and the bulging purse of gold that Garius had given him after Crossroad keep.

Cursing, he left the collapsed passage and closed his eyes, sending out a mental probe to Karnwyr thinking his wolf companion would be able to find food for him.

But there was no reply.

Frustrated, he tried again. And again he had no response.

Suddenly, Bishop felt very alone.

"Don't move!"

Bishop froze, his eyes scanning the tree line to see who made the command. From the shadows of the trees a woman stepped forward, her black bow aimed at Bishop.

"What are you doing this deep in the mere?" she demanded. Bishop stared at her, examining her stance and composure. She was a Tiefling, her skin was pockmarked around the hairline and her eyes were a dark reddy-brown.

"Answer me!" she commanded.

"I got lost on my way to…" he thought quickly "West Harbour"

The Tiefling lowered her bow slightly.

"Are you a farmer?" she asked, still seeming unsure of the stranger.

"Trader" Bishop replied, not wanting to arouse suspicion. He was sure that secrecy was his best option until he could establish what had happened since his death. The Tiefling sighed and lowered her bow.

"You should be more careful, the Mere isn't safe"

"You're telling me" Bishop replied.

The Tiefling, Valenda, believed his story without many questions and took Bishop to a makeshift camp she had set up where her animal companion was sitting, waiting for her return. It was a badger, nestled in a ball beside a log where a small fire was battling against the spitting rain on the soggy afternoon. The two sat in silence for a while, Bishop unsure of his next move while the Tiefling busied herself with cooking food for herself and her guest.

"What happens to your badger when you die?" Bishop asked suddenly, wondering if the Tiefling might have the answers he sought.

"I suppose she would go free, make a family for herself" Valenda replied, looking up from her badger to Bishop "Why do you ask? Planning on killing me and stealing her away?" she asked with a devilish smile. Bishop was in no mood for joking.

"Just curious" he replied, returning to his thoughts. It appeared Karnwyr was gone, probably off in a nice warm den somewhere with a litter of pups. And there was Bishop, stuck in the middle of the Mere, cold and wet with a complete stranger. He didn't even know how long he had been dead.

"What day is it?" he asked.

"The twentieth of Uktar"

"Uktar?" Bishop asked before he could stop himself.

"How long did you say you had been lost in the Mere?" the Tiefling asked. Bishop shook his head and grunted.

The conversation was stunted for the rest of the afternoon into the evening. Bishop sat in silence staring at the fire while Valenda saw to the food. It was a modest meal of dried boar meat and mayhaw berries but Bishop didn't scoff at the simplicity, he just ate.

As the sun set Valenda gave up her attempts at conversation and set to preparing her bedroll. She made no effort to see that Bishop was comfortable, as he had shown her little civility and he was too caught up in his own thoughts to notice her curling up under her blanket.

The siege of Crossroad Keep had been just after Midsummer, putting his time in the Wall at five months at the least. He hadn't asked what year it was so as to avoid arousing suspicion. For all he knew a hundred years had passed and all his companions were long dead.

Once night had fallen and the fire had died, Bishop stared at the dark shape that was Valenda, frowning. He had been quiet, cold even with her. It was his defence mechanism for what was to come. If he had got her to tell him her life story, it would have made killing her much harder.

Breathing slowly, Bishop drew his knife and stepped in silence towards the slumbering woman. As he approached, she snorted in her sleep and rolled over, her face illuminated by the moonlight. Bishop stopped and looked down at her, his knuckles white on the hilt of his dagger. He would make it quick; he owed her that for the meal.

Kneeling beside her, he gently pulled down her blanket and brought the knife to within an inch of her throat. Gritting his teeth, he took a deep breath and brought the blade down…

An hour later he was still sitting there, staring at her, angry at himself. The knife was lying next to the sleeping Tiefling where he had left it. He hadn't been able to kill her. He hadn't even wanted to.

The old Bishop would have killed her on sight, stripped her of her gear and left the body to rot in the Mere. But the new Bishop knew Kelemvor was watching, he knew that no crime goes unpunished in the end, and that was enough to stay his hand.

Making his decision, he got to his feet and picked up his knife. Quietly as possible, he wrapped up some dry meat for himself and left a handful of coins in exchange then set off into the Mere, heading East towards the road that cut through it which would take him North to Highcliff where he could take stock and begin to reforge his old life.


End file.
